You Know I Do
by Annaelle
Summary: Sequel to 'Arranged Marriages'. AU Prince!Killian and Princess!Emma. ONESHOT


**Sequel to Arranged Marriages-AU Prince!Killian and Princess!Emma.**

**Thoughts? **

**Love, **

**Annaelle**

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Courting Prince Killian of Sevenwaters is easier than she expected it to be.

It's easier to regard him as her future husband than as the good, loyal, handsome friend she kissed a few times before she asked him to marry her.

Her parents are thrilled she accepted his proposal, though her father _was_ slightly peeved that Killian didn't formally ask him for her hand before they—together, of course—told them of their engagement, but accepted the explanation that, technically, Emma asked Killian, not the other way around.

Many other Royals—disregarding several disgruntled suitors from the both of them—claim they saw this union coming years ago. That they were all just waiting for the Prince and the Princess to renounce their stubborn ways and give into the inevitability of their nuptials.

Their words, not hers.

Her mother and Killian's mother are having a field day planning what they are referring to as 'the grandest royal wedding in history', despite both her and Killian's insistence on not making a bigger deal out of it than necessary.

Of course, their mothers disregarded their input and went ahead as they wished.

The only thing Emma put her foot down on was the dress—she refuses to wear the kind of poufy monstrosity her mother would undoubtedly try to make her wear—and she has been meeting with a seamstress to design it herself several times a week.

Killian has almost permanently taken up residence in the guest wing—since they haven't exactly decided where they will be living after their wedding and their coronation, and she loves how she can see him whenever she wants now, how they can have breakfast together if they choose to and how much freer she feels now that she's engaged to him.

It's almost ironic, really—she always thought marriage would feel like a cage, like invisible chains she would never be able to escape.

She's relieved and euphoric to learn that it does not at all feel like that with Killian.

They _are_ very compatible, as it turns out, not just as friends, but also as a couple, and—she doesn't doubt it for a second—they will be as lovers too.

Killian has been surprisingly resistant on that front, and has allowed no more than chaste kisses—she hasn't been able to tempt him into more than two slightly more passionate kisses over the last few weeks—insisting that they save their true 'first time' for their wedding night.

Emma's no fool, and she knows she will not be his first, and it makes her feel cherished and loved that he insists on making her first time special nonetheless, even though it would not be his.

"Do you need any more help getting ready for the day, m'lady?"

Her handmaiden, Louisa, pulls her from her thoughts, feeling slightly sheepish for being caught daydreaming about her betrothed. "No," she offers the young girl a gentle smile, "You may go; I will finish dressing myself."

"Of course, m'lady," Louisa bows and scurries out of her chambers, leaving her to her own devices.

It is early still, and Emma is still contemplating what to wear—today she gets to spend the day with Killian, on their first unchaperoned outing (that their parents are aware of anyway), and she's ridiculously nervous for it.

They have not truly spent time together, _alone_, since their betrothal had been announced, and she's been looking forward to it ever since Killian offered to take her sailing when the weather allowed it.

Of course, after he'd suggested it, the weather had been horrible, and they'd been forced to postpone.

She slips her luxurious, thick leather pants on as she keeps fantasizing about the day ahead of her, slipping into a comfortable, simple white shirt, corset and vest, braiding her hair quickly, so it won't get in her face when they're sailing.

When she's finished, she looks at herself in the mirror, smiling a little at how she looks anything but royal in this outfit—she looks like a normal girl, and she absolutely loves it.

She briefly wonders if she should take off her engagement ring, but when she actually does move to slide the beautiful jewel from her finger, she can't actually bear to part with it for a minute, so she slides it onto a subtle silver necklace, so she won't risk losing it.

It's not until she's outside, standing on the balcony, waiting for Killian to come get her, that she realizes how much she needs this.

She needs this outing, this break from the crazy wedding planning and stifling Princess duties.

"Ah, there you are, love." She starts smiling the moment she hears his voice, turning to face her handsome Prince (she really couldn't have been luckier, even if it _is_ arranged), eyes widening a little at how _good_ he looks in more casual clothing.

"Hello," she says breathily, sounding a little more affected than she should, because honestly, it's not like she's in love with him—that would be ridiculous.

Wouldn't it?

He smirks at her, and her heart stutters a little at the way his face lights up, the way his eyes regard her intensely. "You look beautiful," he offers, taking a few steps closer, gently taking her hand in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

"Thank you," Emma swallows thickly, allowing him to pull her closer by her hand, resting her other hand on his chest, his lips pressing to her forehead.

"I've missed you, lass," he murmurs quietly, and she scolds herself for feeling like a giddy teenage girl with her first crush, "I've barely seen you since I offered to take you sailing."

"I know," she sighs, pouting a little, "Our mothers are having a little too much fun planning the wedding." She smiles at him when he pulls away from the embrace, blushing a little when he strokes her cheek tenderly.

"That can only be a good thing, love. Let them have their fun—the sooner they are satisfied, the sooner we will be wedded." She eyes him curiously, raising one eyebrow at him. "Someone's eager," she frowns, "Since when do you actually _want_ to get married?"

"Since it'll be you I am getting married to," he replies simply, matter-of-factly, as though it's not a big revelation at all. Her heart is pounding and she's feeling slightly lightheaded, unsure of what to do or say—she knows she picked him because she thought she'd have a chance at True Love with him, but…

It's too soon.

They've only been courting for a few weeks.

He cannot possibly have developed real romantic feelings for her this fast.

"Killian," she breathes, "I—"

"Hush, love," he presses one finger to her lips, "I know."

She's confused and scared and she doesn't know how to respond to this—she hadn't expected Killian to confess (or develop) feelings for her this fast, and she doesn't know how to deal with it. "Killian," she breathes again, her fingers curling around his wrist, holding his hand to her cheek, "I don't think I'm—"

Before she can finish, he shakes his head again, smiling gently at her. "I know you're not, love. That's quite alright; we have the rest of our lives, Emma."

He is too sweet, and she has no idea what she ever did to deserve him, but she's not going to let him go now. She smiles up at him, tiptoeing so she can press a chaste kiss to his cheek, blushing prettily when he winks at her before offering her his arm, escorting her through the corridors and down to the stables, where a carriage—their parents had insisted upon it—is waiting for them, to take them down to the harbor.

He holds her hand the entire way, and babbles excitedly about his boat, and everything he'll be showing her and how much she'll love sailing, and all she can do is smile and nod—he's adorable and sweet, and she's pretty sure he loves her.

It takes her the entire ride to figure out that maybe, just maybe, she already loves him too.

.

.

.

The wedding is a grand affair—hundreds of people are waiting outside the palace gates before the sun has even properly risen, and servants and knights alike are scurrying through the palace to see to last minute details, to make sure the wedding of Prince Killian and Princess Emma, both heir to the throne in their own respective kingdoms, will go off without a hitch.

Queen Snow White and Queen Ana of Sevenwaters have been up and about since sunrise as well, both seeing to the decorations in the Grand Hall, where the ceremony would be taking place, before they both retreated to their chambers to prepare themselves for the wedding, while Princess Emma, surrounded by her ladies in waiting, flounders in front of the mirror, eliciting many giggles and laughs from the women in the room.

Prince Killian, too, is visibly nervous (something his brother has teased him with several times already), rearranging his hair several times, trying to straighten invisible wrinkles from his waistcoat and shirt and pacing the room while he waits for his cue to move downstairs, to the Grand Hall.

He and Emma will not only be wedded today, but also be crowned King and Queen of the joined kingdoms of Sevenwaters and Enchanted Forest—their duties, however, will be shared with their parents for one more year, in which they will be allowed to redirect their focus to their marriage and providing the throne with another heir (he hates that part of it—having a child should not be a duty but a gift).

The moment Killian sees Emma—his beautiful, brave, magnificent princess—walk down the aisle towards him on her father's arm, he knows he made the right decision. He will never regret sharing his kingship, his kingdom, his _life_ with her.

She smiles shyly when her father reverently places her hand in his, her eyes sparkling as she takes in his appearance while he does the same with her.

She's a vision in white.

Her golden, silken hair was arranged into an intricate updo, loose curls falling over her shoulders, almost down to her waist. Her dress is anything but conventional, but it is so undeniably _her_, he cannot do anything but love and approve of it.

The bodice is tight and inlaid with silver figures and small diamonds, the skirts full and loose, and instead of the traditional lace overlay with long sleeves and high neckline, Emma's dress is low-cut (but not so in an indecent way) and is held up only by thick straps of see-through fabric with the same silver pattern as the bodice.

He loves the dress—he loves the way she's smiling—he loves the way her eyes are sparkling with amusement at his continued silence and staring—he just loves _her_.

"Hello beautiful," he offers, raising their entwined hands to his lips, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she responds breathlessly, her cheeks rosy and her lips turning up into a full, beautiful smile, "I am. Let's do this, Killian." He smiles at her once again and nods, murmuring, "As you wish, my Queen," before they turn to the priest.

The two Queens, who will shortly give their crowns to their children, cry as Killian and Emma speak their vows to one another, while King James and King Edward smile indulgently, both fondly remembering their own wedding and coronation days.

Emma is too preoccupied staring at her husband to register the cheers and applause when the priest pronounces them husband and wife—it's not until he leans in to kiss her (quite passionately too) that she realizes they did it.

She's married.

To Killian.

When he breaks the kiss, she barely has the time to process that thought before she is separated from him, ushered towards the large platform where her father is waiting for her, wearing the crown he had had bestowed upon him when he had been crowned King, and that he would now be passing onto her.

She is already wearing her mother's bracelets, called the Armillae, symbols of sincerity and wisdom, swallowing thickly when the bishop drapes the thick, heavy coronation mantle over her shoulders before offering her one hand, to help her up the steps, bowing to her when she takes her seat in the throne that will, from this day on, be hers rather than her father's.

He offers her a gentle smile when the bishop returns with a thick, red velvet pillow, carrying the scepter and the Globus Cruciger, symbols of her power.

"Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of the Enchanted Forest and Sevenwaters according to the statures agreed upon by your predecessors and the respective laws and customs of the same? Will you, in your power, cause law and justice and mercy to be executed in all judgments?" Her father's voice is strong and unwavering, and she can see in his eyes that he is proud of her—that he believes in her.

"I solemnly promise so to do."

Reverently, her father slowly moves the crown from his head, bowing gently as he places it upon Emma's golden curls. Emma takes a deep, shuddering breath as she stares ahead with a blank expression, just like her father instructed her, while she watches her husband undergo the same ceremony—though the symbols of his power are a sword; the sword of justice, state and mercy; and a compass that is to guide him as King.

She listens to him repeat the same vow she did before her father gives her a small nod, and she moves to stand, joining Killian as they walk side by side onto the balcony, to be presented as the new King and Queen of realm.

There's a moment of silence before the double doors to the balcony, and they are alone for a second—but that's all she needs. "Killian," she whispers, blushing a little at the intense way he's looking at her, "We did it."

"Aye love," he smiles, "We did. I love you, Queen Emma."

She grins at the title and leans in to peck his lips very briefly. "I love you too, King Killian. Let's go see our loyal subjects."

His smirk is positively devilish. "Yes," he agrees, "Let's." The doors open and she's momentarily blinded by the sunlight—and then she hears the cheering of the people, almost louder than the announcement.

"Presenting, their Royal Highnesses, King Killian and Queen Emma Jones of Sevenwaters and the Enchanted Forest."


End file.
